The Wicked and Divine
by Danzinora Switch
Summary: Mirror!Spock has appeared on the U.S.S. Enterprise. McCoy doesn't trust him. Can he get Kirk to listen?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: GASP! Cough, Wheeze!- I'm back! Feel like I've been holding my breath all this time. Happy Easter, everybody!**

**Okay, I'm gonna jump right into the fray. This is my first study into the Mirror-verse, so I'm carefully testing the waters in this fic. Also, it's most likely McCoy-centric since I'm apparently also studying the character (but don't worry, there's still plenty of action, paranoia, and Spock to hopefully sate y'all's needs). This chapter is a bit short, but I've got a few others already written which are longer, don't fret. :) That all being said I'll quit my rambling and let y'all enjoy the story.**

* * *

McCoy should've known there would be trouble the instant he heard the name of the planet they were going to.

Hyde's World.

A name like that would _always_ spell doom.

But no, he'd merely joked with Jim about the name and warned him away from any transporters lest he get split in two again. They did not need a repeat of Jekyll-Kirk, Hyde-Kirk.

As it was, the planet itself seemed normal: Class M, Goldilocks temperature, blue sky, green grass… he'd even wriggled his toes in the fine white sand of some beaches.

How did such a pleasant planet get such a dark name? That was beyond even Spock. It had been catalogued as an exoplanet back at the turn of the 21st century, but upon modern-day inspection no one could tell what the scientists back in the day were thinking. Hyde's World was beautiful.

The routine geological surveys continued, but were at the back of everyone's minds. Shore leave was practically expected. Mere moments after the official announcement, crewmembers eagerly lined up in the transporter room to beam down and romp in the grass. McCoy himself went back to the beaches and strolled along the coast, admiring the crystal water and soaring cliffs in the distance. It was like a picture from a fairy tale.

Until the evil part came.

As it turned out, the scientists had not been remiss in naming the planet. The information that had failed to survive the Eugenics Wars, however, concerned the solar system. Hyde's World was truly lovely. But every now and then, the emissions from its sun, warped by its several planets, would whip back and create perfect storm conditions.

_Space_ storm, to be exact. And not the pretty kind.

Shore leave was immediately canceled as all crewmen were recalled to fasten down the ship. McCoy snapped his communicator closed and looked at the sky. Lightning arced across it, despite the absence of clouds. The star's emissions were colliding with the atmosphere, creating the haunting dance of electricity. A moment later the transporter took him away from the ethereal scene.

"What's the scope, Jim?" he asked instantly, rushing off the pad.

"Supercharge from the star," Kirk replied, keeping an eye as more golden forms shimmered into existence. "Got tangled with other emissions and debris and now we've got an all-out squall." The ship suddenly rocked. "According the Chekov," he continued, not missing a beat. "This system is apparently ripe for storm conditions. It's still young, got a mass of planets, several large ones close in… this is where 'Hyde' comes from."

The _Enterprise_ shuddered. At the transporter console, Scotty muttered a Gaelic curse. He sharply activated it and the forms finally coalesced. The woozy crewmen hurriedly stepped off the platform.

McCoy pointed. "Is that thing safe to use?"

"We're trying to get everyone aboard before it gets much worse," Kirk responded. His brow had creased into his 'Captain's look'. "Spock's down below coordinating beam-ups."

McCoy nervously watched as more figures materialized. The ship rocked even more, and he paled to think of what deformations would result from materializing out of whack.

The nerve-racking torture wouldn't go on, though. Communications chirped and Spock's voice filled the room.

_"__One to beam up, Captain."_

Scotty was already on it even before Kirk turned to him. Moments later a figure started shimmering on the platform.

McCoy stretched. "Thank God." The ship rocked again. The figure wavered. "Make sure you keep his ears straight," he joked to Scotty, trying to lighten the mood.

Scotty either didn't hear him, or ignored it. He furiously worked the controls, bent over in concentration. McCoy caught on the moment Kirk voiced their thoughts: "Isn't it taking a little long?"

"Jus' a moment, Cap'n," Scotty tossed. The transporter squealed and the fading form finally started to come together.

Kirk grinned. "Good work, Scotty." He turned around from the console and froze. McCoy, right behind him, also went rigid.

It was the same Starfleet uniform, the same build, the same haircut, the same pointed ears. Anyone could say 'Spock' and they would be right. Except for one key thing.

'Spock' had a beard.

**_This_**_ is the Hyde_, McCoy thought.

* * *

**Let it begin.**

**Again, Happy Easter y'all!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks everybody, for the reviews! As promised, this chapter is longer, hopefully providing more to live off of until the next one. Still experimenting with the Mirror!Verse. Also, have a few quotes from 'Mirror, Mirror' in here, see if you can spot them ;). I do not own Star Trek, which goes without saying, and for this entire story.**

* * *

"Get him back, Scotty," Kirk immediately ordered, a growl in his tone.

"I'm tryin'!" Scotty flustered, punching the controls. The transporter whirred, but no beaming took place. Kirk joined Scotty on the other side and punched in configurations.

The other Spock just stayed on the pad and stared at them. McCoy stared back.

"Scotty, we could do it last time, why can't we this time?" Kirk demanded.

"The conditions are diff'rent," Scotty reported. He opened up underneath the console to the wiring. "It's not an ion storm, and the density level doesn't decrease, it _fluctuates_. It may 'ave snapped closed on us, sair." He dove into the console.

Spock's gaze traced their actions over impassively. He looked at McCoy.

McCoy looked back; completely still.

"Scotty…" Kirk warned.

Scotty finally reemerged. "It's no good, Captain. We'll have t'wait fer another storm the system produces: that'll recreate the circumstances needed." He glanced nervously at the silent, still, Spock.

"How long?"

Scotty sighed. "We'll have t'calculate that, _and_ all the new variables." He shook his head.

Kirk raised his fist sharply over the console, and let it drop. He turned on his heel and faced the bearded man. "Well, Mr. Spock," he said in full Captain mode. "It seems you'll get a taste of _our_ universe this time."

"So it appears," Spock said, uttering his first words. "How shall we proceed?"

Kirk considered, quickly stringing together his words and ideas. "We will… find something mutually suitable," he said. "Until this transposition is solved. I'm having a closed briefing in thirty minutes. I want you there."

Spock nodded. "Understood. Should I wait in my quarters, or in the brig?"

Kirk caught the meaning. "You've done nothing wrong," he said. "I believe your quarters will suffice."

"In that case, Captain," Spock inclined his head and stepped off the platform. McCoy tracked him with his eyes as he walked out the door. The sliding panels closed sharply.

Kirk turned to both he and Scotty. "I want you two and the other department heads in the briefing in half an hour. No one else. We'll decide how to proceed with this- situation- then."

McCoy startled to. "And until then he can just wander the ship like that?"

"He's staying in his quarters, Bones," Kirk said. He turned to the door, stopping just before it and facing them.

"Remember: half an hour. Be thinking before then." Kirk left.

Scotty sighed. "It gives me the shivers jus' seein' 'im standin' thair."

McCoy continued to stare at the transporter doors. "My sentiments exactly, Scotty," he whispered slowly. "My sentiments exactly."

* * *

Kirk didn't go up to the bridge. Instead, he stood out in the hall, and buzzed Spock's door.

A moment later it opened, and the bearded man looked at him questioningly.

"I'd like to have a word with you," Kirk said. "Before the meeting."

Spock nodded his head, and stood back to let Kirk inside. The door closed and Spock stood with his hands folded behind his back.

"Why don't we sit down, Mr. Spock?" Kirk offered.

They pulled up the chairs to the mini-table and Spock just watched as Kirk leaned back. "Do you have a question, Captain?"

Being called 'Captain' by his friend's counterpart actually didn't feel as weird as one might think it would. "I'm curious if my words have left any impact in your universe," Kirk started, getting straight to the point. "It's not often one gets the chance to find out."

Spock inclined his head. "Indeed. However, I should inform you that the Halkans were destroyed."

Kirk pursed his lips. "He ignored you?"

Spock knew very well what Kirk meant by 'he'. "Negative. There was no time to take any action. The moment he arrived he demanded phaser targeting on the cities- and with the crew in disarray, Sulu unconscious in Sickbay, as well as the other disturbances your presence caused- there was no opportunity to persuade otherwise."

Kirk sighed. "I understand. But you will try?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow- so like his counterpart. "I am always endeavoring. But revolutions do not happen overnight."

"I know." Kirk shifted his position. "I believe you have an excellent opportunity to observe a democratic universe right now, Mr. Spock. It may help provide you some insight on what to expect."

"For a time," he answered.

Kirk nodded. "Yes, we still need to get our Spock back from your universe. Any speculations on what he might be going through right now?"

"It is likely that he has been discovered, since though material items have altered, physical and mental applications have stayed the same. I retain my facial hair- I take it from your reaction that he has none?"

"Yes."

Spock shifted. "I cannot speculate due to several interfering variables. One, I do not know how he would react. Two, ship policies widely depend on the captain's mood. Three, there are always those looking to use every situation to their advantage, and four, the resources required for him to get back may be limited."

Kirk didn't like this. He knew Spock's position was second only to the captain, which made him a target. "He's resourceful. Smart. Crafty. He'll be able to handle himself," he said, more to give himself a measure of hope. "Do you have any further knowledge on parallel universes on your side that he could possibly use?"

"Unfortunately," Spock said dryly. "That information remains locked by the captain's alpha code- which appears to be different between the universes. No one has been able to access that subject."

Kirk mildly blushed. "Remind me to give it to you before you leave so that you can unlock it." His brow furrowed, and he leaned back. "Spock was our main expert here; we destroyed any evidence left over because transposing is too dangerous, too big for society yet. Only our Spock retains the information in his head- that should see him through. The issue is ours; we're almost starting from scratch."

"It is an intriguing problem," Spock mentioned.

Kirk grinned. "Good. And I know how much you like intriguing problems." He stood up. "I'm giving you full access to the labs. We need to solve this quickly, Spock, and no matter from which universe, you're the best man for the job."

Spock inclined his head. "Thank you for your confidence." He rose. "I shall strive for a speedy solution."

"That's all I ask, Spock." Kirk smiled.

He turned to leave, but was stopped. "Captain, it may interest you that though I could not save the Halkans, I was able to keep the People of Vaal unharmed."

Kirk remembered them. Orange, white-haired people. Peaceful. He nodded. "That's good." Looking at Spock, "I'll see you at that meeting."

The door closed behind him.

"Yes," Spock murmured.

* * *

**I.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

When Spock materialized he could instantly guess where he was based on his friends' descriptions.

The captain leaned against the transporter console, legs crossed at the ankles and appearing relaxed in the sleeveless gold tunic. Scott was behind it, head bent and busy. McCoy leaned against the far wall, looking as amused as his captain.

"Well, Scotty," the Kirk said airily. "I think you lost his beard in the transporter."

"I'm workin' on it, sair," came the gruff reply.

Spock debated over revealing his identity. On the one hand, he might be able to play it off as the others had, pretending to be his counterpart, until he could get back. But he honestly couldn't tell if the men before him already knew who he was, or were genuinely trying to get his beard back.

Choosing his words carefully, "I do not believe you will find any facial hair within the transporter beam."

Kirk rolled his eyes and glared at him. "I know that." He slid deftly away from the transporter console. "_And_ I know who you are. Now let me make it very clear that you won't be taking anymore officials to brig like that."

Spock nodded. "Naturally. In my universe, with the absence of my true captain, I had acted as protocol dictates with a threat to the crew and ship. Now, the roles are reversed. I have next to no authority here."

Kirk hummed quietly, absorbing the confession. "Logical, as always, Mr. Spock. But authority or not, you still won't be exempt from punishment should it befall you."

"Understood."

"Good." Kirk paced leisurely towards him, prowling across the floor. "Now we just have to figure out what to do with you."

"If I may make a suggestion," Spock hedged. "It would be prudent to endeavor to return me, and for you to regain my counterpart."

Kirk stopped pacing. Scott and McCoy still stared coolly at him from the console.

"We'll see," Kirk said. "For now, you're confined to quarters… I'm sure you can find them." He grinned.

"Very well," Spock said. He determined that obedience would be the best course of action in this universe. For now.

"I'll figure out what to do with you later," Kirk mentioned absently.

McCoy exited the transporter room with him, strolling nonchalantly alongside. Spock glanced at him curiously. The counterpart didn't look back. They walked the eerie halls in silence. Spock found the armed crewmen and emblem of the Empire mildly disquieting- but he just catalogued it away as an unfortunate reaction and steeled himself to face his situation logically.

They reached Spock's quarters and Spock undid the lock (yes, surprisingly there was a lock. Rather un-Vulcan).

"In case you were ever worried," McCoy drawled, finally speaking. Spock looked at him. "I don't hold a grudge about being jailed."

The doctor swiveled on his heel and strode away, leaving Spock to stare after him until the doors swished shut.

* * *

"Captain's Override 51632-Alpha."

Spock turned as his doors opened. He rose as Kirk's counterpart swaggered into the room.

"At attention," Kirk stated sharply.

Spock stood ramrod straight, with his hands clasped behind his back. Kirk paced the length of the room and leaned against the wall opposite him, crossing his arms and staring at him.

"I'm debating," the captain began slowly. "On just leaving your counterpart over there. He's been a bit shady, recently, and you could fill in nicely and be so much more docile." Kirk rubbed his chin. "And it'd make a nice change."

"Somewhat logical," Spock conceded. "From your standpoint. However, I highly suggest that you allow me to find a way to return."

"Really," Kirk dragged, as a cat entertained by what the mouse had to say in its defense. "And why?"

"I am unused to the universe. Its policies and standards are unknown to me, and time would be wasted teaching me for I have different morals. I intend to stick with what _I_ believe- not my counterpart- and this includes the preservation of life. I refuse to kill for any purpose other than immediate self-defense. My counterpart, however, is already familiar with this universe and its inhabitants. He is more suited to this environment. I may more docile than he… but I will not be as obedient."

Spock met Kirk's eyes and they leveled each other's gaze for a long moment. Kirk finally chuckled.

"Even from another universe, you have the propensity for stubbornness," he mentioned. "Logically, I see what you mean. What good is a tamed animal if it won't do anything?" Kirk pushed off from the wall. "Can you find a way back?"

"Fortunately, I have experience from the last instance with deciphering parallel universes," Spock stated. "If I may have access to your computers, I could quickly find the necessary equations."

"That's all well and good, Spock," Kirk drawled. "Except that your captain locked everything pertaining to that topic of research. We haven't made any headway with universes, so I doubt you'll be able to access what you're looking for. Alpha codes on this ship are designed to be un-crackable… especially if one uses an unfamiliar code."

"I see," Spock raised an eyebrow, thinking. "I may have to begin from scratch. I recall the necessary formulas for standard conditions, however they will need to be adjusted for application. If I may have access to your labs…"

Kirk was watching him closely as he trailed off. "Of course," he said sweetly. "You have the lab use that you need, Spock." He turned sharply to the door. "I just suggest that you find your counterpart's guards," he tossed over his shoulder.

The doors snapped close. Spock raised his eyebrow as he absorbed the tidbit of information. "Indeed."

* * *

**Meh, it gets the job done. I like the next chapter better, just feel that it flows well. Anyway, please review! Reviews are loved and extremely appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, THANK YOU for all of the WONDERFUL reviews! I'm glad you like it so far! I'm pretty happy with this chapter, especially in terms of character development (highlighting where I want to go with this). Some more episode quotes subtly worked in- I don't own Star Trek (for the umpteenth time). This is my last completed chapter that I worked on ahead of time- I've already started chapter 4 but I'm not done and it will depend on school/homework :/ Anyways, I upload as soon as I can. Enjoy!**

* * *

The briefing was kept to a bare minimum. There were no recorders or other personnel to survey the meeting. True to Kirk's words, only the heads of each department showed up. McCoy sat down next to Uhura, who gave him a quick smile and nod. He nodded back uneasily. Scotty was across from them, next to Security Chief Giotto. All that was left were Kirk and… Spock.

Scotty and Giotto murmured quietly. Uhura hummed softly to herself as she worked on her PADD. McCoy just shifted in his seat. He couldn't bring himself to join Scotty's conversation, nor could he work. His brain buzzed with anticipation, and he steeled himself to make his opinion clear when the decision came with what to do with Mr. Spock. Sure, he was rattled. It wasn't every day the evil version of your friend walked in. The version that…

No. Not now. He gritted his teeth and pulled his mind together. _Buck up, McCoy_, he admonished himself. _Was it really that bad? _Best not to dwell on it.

Right on time, Kirk and Spock strolled into the room together. McCoy figured he shouldn't be surprised, but he bristled nonetheless. Though he tracked Kirk across the room, he watched Spock sit down out of the corner of his eye.

"Gentlemen," Kirk began. "Lady," he acknowledged Uhura. "For those of you who don't know I would like to introduce Mr. Spock, from the I.S.S. _Enterprise_."

Spock inclined his head. Only Giotto did a double take at the beard; everyone else already knew him.

"Considering the obvious need to get our own Spock back," Kirk continued. "It is imperative that we find a quick solution. We need to be ready to make the switch the moment a storm returns. As for this need, I am giving Spock full lab access to help him create the necessary computations-"

McCoy started.

"The ship shall carry on as normal, though note, Mr. Scott, that if another storm appears elsewhere in the system we shall fly into it. You may want to batten down the hatches."

"Aye sair," Scotty replied.

"Mr. Spock has given me a working estimate of three days to work out all of the formulas and incorporate the variables. Anything that we may have left on file from the last transposition shall be given to him; I know I ordered the information destroyed, but it's possible something slipped through. I expect _everyone_ to fully cooperate with Mr. Spock. We need to find an answer, and quickly. Interruptions will not be tolerated. Understood?"

Everyone nodded. McCoy just stared.

Kirk looked among the silent officers. "If there are no other inputs, then this meeting is adjourned."

Spock rose. "I will begin in the labs, Captain," he said smoothly. Kirk nodded and the Vulcan left, slowly followed by everyone else in the room. Soon, only Kirk and McCoy remained.

Kirk caught McCoy glaring at him. "What is it, Bones?" Kirk asked, a bit lightly. "Why did I hold a meeting when I've already made up my mind?"

"Jim, don't tell me you're just gonna let him work on this by himself," McCoy demanded.

"We need a quick solution, Bones. Spock can-"

"No! Don't give me _any_ damnable logic about how he's the only man for the job! You and I both know that's not true."

"Bones-"

"Now we have _several_ qualified mathematicians, physicists and engineers who are perfectly capable of finding a solution _together_."

"_Bones-_"

"So _let them do their jobs-!_"

"Doctor, that's enough!" Kirk growled.

"Jim, I know how much you rely on Spock, but-"

"Doctor!"

"_That's _not _Spock!_" McCoy shouted.

"He's still a man of integrity!" Kirk replied sharply, angry now.

McCoy suddenly stopped, the anger and desperation fleeing him, replaced with dread. Did Kirk truly believe that? He swallowed as Kirk turned to leave.

"He's a predator, Jim."

The only reaction was perhaps a slight stiffening of Kirk's shoulders before he left the room.

* * *

**I.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

Spock cautiously made his way over to the labs. He decided it was best to appear like he was his counterpart (missing beard aside) and so briskly walked the halls with his hands clasped behind his back. Anyone who passed him would look at his face curiously, but he would give his coldest gaze possible and they wisely scurried off.

An interesting universe, to say the least.

He settled in the astrophysics lab, and mentally prepared to start computing time/space formulas. He had a computer, his memory, and hopefully detailed readings of the system. This should not take too long.

As he switched on the terminal the doors opened and he was surprised to see two Vulcans, _Vulcans_, walk in. He rose as they approached.

The first Vulcan stopped before him. "Commander," he acknowledged, providing the customary salute. Spock returned it.

"May I inquire as to your presence?" Spock asked blithely, still trying to figure out why there were Vulcans on this ship and not his own.

"We were informed that it would be wise to be here," the Vulcan maintained.

Spock raised an eyebrow as events clicked. Ah. These must be his counterpart's bodyguards. Perhaps it would be beneficial to have them. The alternative was walking around the ship as a major target. Perhaps the captain wanted him to succeed.

"I see. The captain apparently means well by this."

"The _captain_ didn't send them," drawled a voice.

Spock turned and saw McCoy leaning against the other entrance. The doctor had his arms crossed, and looked over the Vulcans detachedly, if somewhat disdainfully. "And I recall mentioning that it wasn't something _urgent_, just something _wise_… two aren't necessary, Suvuk, so why don't you go back to torturing another poor soul in the agony booth or something, 'kay?"

The second Vulcan stiffened, but glanced at Spock. He signaled for him to leave. The first Vulcan stood waiting.

"I am working on something that is highly classified," Spock said. "You may watch the door."

"Yes sir," the Vulcan said, and stepped out into the hall.

The doctor snorted. "Like that's not suspicious. 'I'm working on something highly classified'… you have a lot to learn about this place, starting with the rumor mill."

"Fortunately, I do not plan on sticking around long enough to find out," Spock replied, back at the computer. He pulled up the information on Hyde's World and its solar system.

"Doesn't matter. You're here. Now you've just got to try and stay _alive_ long enough to get back."

Spock looked at him curiously. "Why are you here, Doctor?"

McCoy shrugged. "Maybe I'm 'fascinated'. Maybe I want a turn to study you when you're not studying us."

Spock recalled observing the counterparts' behavior in the brig during the last transposition. He supposed it could leave an uncomfortable 'guinea pig' feeling in those involved.

McCoy was still talking. "But never mind my reasons. They ain't for the whole world to know." He nodded towards the other door. "You seemed surprised to see Sodek, isn't he on your _Enterprise_?"

Sodek must be the first Vulcan, Spock figured. "Negative, I am the only Vulcan aboard."

McCoy moved away from the door, walking languidly towards a counter. "Well, how 'bout that…" he mused. "What do your calculations make of that, Spock? Isn't it 'fascinating' that though these universes are parallel there are some people in different places?"

"It is intriguing," Spock acknowledged. "However, unless it greatly affects my return, I shall not dwell too much on it at this time." He returned to scrolling through the system's data, concluding that it'd be another three days before another storm would rage.

He suddenly realized that McCoy was reading over his shoulder. "What?" the doctor asked grumpily. "It's public information, nothing my eyes can't see."

"Doctor, I am unsure why you are so interested in my endeavor," Spock said.

McCoy shrugged. "Must be bored, I guess." Spock continued looking at him, knowing that was not the real answer.

"Okay, fine," McCoy sniped, straightening. He sat on a nearby counter. "Perhaps I find your universe 'fascinating'."

He kept using that word. Spock suddenly realized, to his inconvenience and dismay, that this McCoy probably shared a relationship with his counterpart like he did with his own doctor. McCoy was using 'fascinating' to needle him.

Weirdly enough, Spock did not feel the inclination towards annoyance.

"It's probably a good thing that I'm sticking around anyway," McCoy said. "Otherwise you'd probably end up getting yourself killed."

"I assure you I have no intention of doing that," Spock replied, moving to use the logarithmic computer.

"People rarely do," McCoy pointed out. "Not exactly up for them to decide, now, is it?" He swung his feet, bumping them against the counter. "You go walking around by yourself like that you'll stick out like a sore thumb- and people notice sore thumbs. The more people who notice, the more people watch you. Then you're just painting yourself a bigger target." He shook his head. "I'd say it's pretty 'logical' to try and get through this as smoothly as possible, wouldn't you agree?"

Finding it difficult to concentrate, Spock broke away from the computer. "Yes, I do agree. And I thank you for finding my guards for me. But if you please, Doctor, I have much work to do."

"Of course," McCoy huffed as Spock returned to punching in numbers to the computer. "Heaven forbid a simple conversation keep you from your work. Well, don't worry about having a sentimental old fool like me interrupting your circuits- I'll just stick to my duty in Sickbay and forget _all_ about a certain misplaced Vulcan-" He hopped off the counter.

"Doctor," Spock called. McCoy stopped at the exit and looked back at him. "I did not mean to completely dismiss you. I do appreciate, if not understand, the efforts made for my safety and wellbeing. I simply meant that it was difficult to hold a conversation and compute the necessary formulas at the same time."

McCoy suddenly grinned. "Aw, Spock, are you apologizing?"

Spock shook his head. "Merely clarifying."

"I'll take what I can get." McCoy returned to his seat on the counter. "Y'know, you're a lot nicer than your counterpart. Sure you don't want to stick around?"

"I am quite sure," Spock maintained.

McCoy still talked with him, but not as often as before, leaving Spock free to filter in the inter-dimensional quantum mechanics and plot the molecular density. Spock politely took part, very much aware that this- kinship- with the doctor was highly valuable in such a cutthroat universe. In terms of tactics, it was better to have the CMO _with_ you rather than _against_ you. For whatever reasons McCoy was being friendly, Spock would not complain.

Even if he was scarily similar to his counterpart.

The work ran late, and the two found themselves departing from the lab to catch some rest. The doctor didn't offer any word of farewell, he simply left for Sickbay. Spock decided not to press it and strolled to his quarters through the eerie, dimming ship, all the time aware of Sodek in the shadows.

* * *

**U.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

"God _damn_!" McCoy muttered as he paced furiously through the corridor. Any crewman walking by would notice the dark aura surrounding the doctor and quickly jump away to let him pass. Anyone who didn't move would receive a glare that could freeze Hell over. McCoy was not in the mood to deal with trifles.

What was Jim thinking? Did he know what he just let loose on his ship? Outwardly, for all appearances (minus the beard) Spock was exactly like _their_ Spock. Why wouldn't Jim trust him?

But McCoy knew better. He'd glimpsed inside that mind that day, through the confusion and pain. Through the unusual strain of the mind-meld, which wasn't supposed to hurt, he caught a peek of the offending party.

And it was so cold.

_Icy_, McCoy thought and shuddered. He had a headache with the memory, but that was trivial. The point was that McCoy _knew_ how calculating and self-serving this Spock was. The logic was colder, and crueler. He laughed darkly at himself. According to their Spock, disposing of emotion eliminated the need for violence.

But for Spock in the other universe, where violence was maintained, it simply eradicated remorse. Handy, in that one could now commit atrocities without mental guilt and shame.

What he had done to McCoy meant nothing to him.

McCoy scowled and walked faster. He always followed the captain's decisions, but never once hesitated to speak his mind. This time, however, Jim didn't seem to be listening. That was bad.

The first thing McCoy had done after the briefing was put his Sickbay on alert status. No slacking, tight professionalism, constant vigilance… the works. People questioned him. He knew they thought it was odd, and that he was probably out of his mind, but watching Jim he had picked up a thing or two about command ability, and so strictly reigned in his staff. Orders were orders.

Then he left for the labs.

Why he was headings _towards_ Spock, he didn't know. He just knew that he wanted no one else to get blindsided. Who knew what that crafty Vulcan would do? McCoy had his staff on guard to help _protect_ them against any threats. And since Kirk was so oblivious, it was clear he wasn't going to send anyone else to keep an eye on Spock.

McCoy didn't want anyone else to get hurt.

At times in the hallway he slowed. Was he overreacting? So far, Spock hadn't done anything to warrant such paranoia. At least, while on _this_ ship. McCoy swallowed hard. His head pulsed with his heart against the ghost sensations of fingers in his mind. He shook it and glowered, steeling his resolve. No one else would go through that, not if he could help it.

When he reached the astrophysics lab he practically barreled through, determined to stop Spock from- what, exactly? McCoy didn't know and didn't care.

Spock turned at his entrance, raising a clinical eyebrow. "Doctor," he acknowledged, staying poised at the computer.

McCoy suddenly found that he couldn't move. He stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth dry. Spock's dark gaze seemed to reach across the room out at him. Why had he blundered in here? Why didn't he just tap the security feeds and watch from the safety of his office?

He shook himself mentally, snapping out of his hesitation. "Spock," he replied in gruff greeting.

The Vulcan still looked at him with those black eyes. "Is there something you require?"

"Can't I simply be in a lab in my own ship in peace?" McCoy bit back.

Spock did not deign to respond. He merely turned in acquiescence and continued working on the computer. McCoy folded his arms and leaned against the lab entrance, watching Spock sharply through his burning eyes.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, Spock at the computer and McCoy glaring at him, but it seemed like hours ticked by. McCoy's feet never began to hurt, though, but he was still incredible tense. After ages, Spock spoke.

"Are you simply going to watch me all evening?"

McCoy jerked his head up, and noticed that the Vulcan had spoken with his back still towards him. McCoy stayed silent long enough for Spock to turn around enough to look at him.

"Let's get one thing straight," McCoy rumbled dangerously in his throat. "Before this goes much further." Spock swiveled completely around in his chair as the doctor stepped forward.

"I'm on to you. Don't think I don't know what you're capable of. And if you do anything, _anything_, against this crew and ship-" McCoy leaned forward with his strongest glare.

"I will _personally_ make you pay."

He doesn't wait to hear the reply. Instead he marches out of the lab and into the hall, aware that he starts shaking more with every step. McCoy glares at a curious ensign who wisely makes himself scarce. Clenching his fists, McCoy carefully stalks back towards Sickbay, also aware that his anger is, in truth, only masking his unmistakable fear.

* * *

**I'm really pulling out all the details I can from 'Mirror, Mirror'. Spock's line '...and some of them [my operatives] are Vulcan' hint to the presence of other Vulcans on the ship. Also, you see one at the agony booth scene, when Kirk and Spock are talking and they each have a bodyguard (Spock's has pointed ears). **

**Trying to get a Marlena cameo... working on it. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the slight delay, I've been unusually busy lately. I had half of this written, then my muse sort of stopped, but I finally wrote the other half. Lots of Spocks and lots of McCoys in this! More of a character(s)-study chapter, but still with hints you will need to know. ;) Wink, wink ;)**

**And THANK YOU for the beautiful reviews! I'm trying to go not for the scary-character feel, but for the they-haven't-done-anything-but-you-know-it's-coming sort of creepiness. I work on that a little more in this chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

**I.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

Spock believed he found a safe niche in this universe. If one could call it safe. He would wake up in the morning and get his meals from the mess hall before anyone else was up. Then he would head straight for the labs to continue working on the problem. It was mildly difficult- sometimes the computer shut down on him if it thought he was too close to parallel universes, leaving much of his work to be done with other devices and his head.

McCoy often joined him, watching him work, asking questions, and delegating Sickbay activities to his staff. They fell into an odd routine- Spock working, and McCoy watching, neither commenting on it. Though he still didn't fully know the doctor's reasons, Spock was careful to not upset the balance. Again, it was logical to get by as smoothly as possible.

Though McCoy did most of the watching, Spock had been observing this universe as well. He found it… startling.

The cruelty was unsurpassed, but what stood out to him were the moments where these crewmen acted so _normally_ that they appeared like their counterparts. Sulu, for instance. Spock quickly learned that though the Security Chief was always playing people and planning for power, and highly skilled with his knives, he was not always the merciless man. He observed him coolly slice up another man while sparring, not batting an eye, actually grinning, but later that same day Spock noticed him discreetly stroke a plant in hydroponics when he thought no one was looking. Like his own Sulu, the helmsman, there was a botanist underneath.

Little touches like that extended everywhere. Uhura seemed to hold an unusually great power over the ship- likely it was because she was in charge of all communications, in, out, and intra- crewmen scurried out of her way and her smile was sickly sweet, but Spock heard her humming quietly to herself as she worked. Chekov got in a fight with someone over Russian pride (the navigator emerged victorious, while the other man's remains were quickly discarded). Mr. Scott seemed the same, but didn't tolerate mistakes made in Engineering, sending anyone to the agony booth.

The captain was… unnerving. He was cruel, in charge, and at times appeared unbalanced. Spock did his best to stay in the lab, and never once visited the bridge. Kirk was deft and a mean fighter, muscles toned and face hard. He could hold his own in a verbal battle, but the moment push came to shove he would be the first to physically attack. His shark-like gaze roamed all over the ship- his ship- and at times Spock felt the illogical sensation that he was being watched.

But of course, no one was around. Were they?

McCoy was a different matter. He had the same complex blend of anger and compassion, only it was altered. Spock couldn't quite place it. The man was still very opinionated, but at the same time vague. One thing Spock noticed was that this McCoy somehow managed to keep his true motives and opinions concealed. In answering questions, he gave several different choices and possibilities. 'Maybe', 'perhaps'… noncommittal sentence beginnings. An interesting idiosyncrasy.

The doctor sat in his customary position- on the counter, feet dangling leisurely- as Spock worked. "So," he said nonchalantly. "Does he irritate you as much as I do my Spock?"

Spock recognized that 'he' must mean the Dr. McCoy he was familiar with. "I am a Vulcan; I do not feel irritation."

McCoy just looked him over as he punched in some new formulas. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Spock resisted the urge to sigh. He was about to reply when the doors swooshed open, and Captain Kirk stood there, jaw set and eyes glittering.

"I need to talk with you, Sawbones," he said shortly.

McCoy shrugged and hopped off the counter, moving agilely to the connecting lab. The door closed behind them and Spock strained to pick up what they were saying. Even with his hearing, he couldn't catch more than a muffled, heated discussion. It sounded serious. Perhaps it would be best not to pry…

"That's not good enough!"

Spock was startled by the captain's shout. Instantly, McCoy lashed back, just as loud. The voices grew more distant, they must have moved away from the door, but the volume never decreased. Suddenly it ceased. It grew quiet enough that Spock turned in his chair to look at the door, idly wondering if one killed the other. A moment later it swooshed open again, and McCoy reentered, looking smug, while Kirk glowered behind him.

"Next emergency, Doctor," Kirk reminded him dangerously.

McCoy relaxed against his counter. "Sure thing, James."

Kirk set his predatory gaze on Spock. "How are you coming with those equations?" he demanded.

"Almost complete," Spock answered immediately. "Another storm is due in a little over a day, smaller, but we should be able to compensate with energy from our warp engines. I am fine-tuning the necessary adjustments now."

Kirk pursed his lips. "Noted, Mr. Spock. I want everything to go as quickly as possible, you hear?" Spock nodded and Kirk turned sharply on his heel and marched out. Behind him, McCoy chuckled.

"Don't mind him. He's just in a bad temper, is all."

"May I inquire as to what you were arguing about?"

McCoy looked at him coolly. "You may."

When the doctor uttered no further words Spock hesitantly asked "What were you arguing about?"

"Oh, just a matter of concerns," McCoy drawled. "None of which are yours."

"I see." Spock looked where the captain had left. "Do you have an alliance with Kirk?"

McCoy's lips spread into an unsettling smile. "Let's just say that James and I have an _understanding_."

Not allies. But not enemies. Friends? If their argument was anything to go by, Spock didn't think so. Yet it was a fascinating relationship.

"Why was he upset?" Spock asked casually.

"Oh, he just thinks I'm delegatin' too much," McCoy drawled. "Missed surgery on Williams… course, it's not like he's in charge of Sickbay. Sure, he can say who _not _to work on, like Mailerie, but he can't tell me who and when to work on, not when I've got my staff on it."

"Mailerie," Spock tried to place the name. "Why can you not work on this person?"

"Because she's a half-breed," McCoy answered. "And James Kirk likes his ship to be the best- and the purest." McCoy raised his hand in a mock-toast. "She still got assigned, but I'm under orders that if she gets injured to not treat her- let her die off."

Both of Spock's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Doctor," Spock said. "I am a-"

There was no time to think. In a flash of movement McCoy suddenly had him pinned up against the wall. Spock felt a blade against his throat and he watched incredulously as the doctor raised a silent finger to his lips.

Spock stayed quiet.

Removing the knife, McCoy eased gingerly across the lab and reached under a table. With a swift tug, he yanked out something and held it up for Spock to see.

A listening device.

"Got to watch out for these," McCoy mused, eyeing the wireless bug in his hand. "Certainly practical and common on a ship like this, but it sure does make it tough to have a private conversation." As he spoke he crossed to the intercom unit, raising a hand to answer just a moment before it whistled.

"I'm not talking about mutiny, Sulu, when I say a private conversation I mean a _conversation_! Now stop listening in on everything and go back to interrogating your vegetables or something!" The doctor slammed his fist on the panel, closing the channel without waiting for a reply. He then dropped the bug on the ground and promptly crushed it with his boot.

Spock watched all this in fascination. The doctor seemed to have an innate understanding of the ship's people and behaviors. McCoy nudged the broken metal and wires away with his toe and faced him.

"No one knows you're a half-breed," McCoy clarified. "Your Vulcans might, but that's between you and them. At least you're Vulcan enough to meet M'Benga's standards, not that he's ever gotten a close enough look."

Spock nodded, processing the information. "And how do you know?" he asked.

McCoy grinned. "I'm your doctor, aren't I? I can't help but know." He sauntered towards the door. "Just be careful what you say, Spock," he tossed over his shoulder.

The doors closed behind him.

* * *

**U.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

McCoy paced anxiously in his office. For the last two days he'd been circling like a hawk around the astrophysics lab- always nearing it, but never going in. After his threat to Spock, he'd been even more high-strung. Was someone watching the Vulcan? Where was he? How would he know Spock wasn't in, say, the Mess Hall?

He wasn't sure what to do. He was torn between wanting to watch the Vulcan- to know where he is- and wanting to run as far away as possible. One couldn't exactly do both.

A hand made its way restlessly through his hair. He'd been too anxious to eat. His staff had noticed, he could tell, but so far haven't reported him to the captain. They'd seen him in worse states.

_"__Damn_," McCoy muttered, spinning sharply out the door. He needed to move. He needed to _do_ something, anything to get his mind off of cobra on the ship.

His feet took him to the chemistry lab. Of course. He could always start running some tests and fiddling with compounds- there were dozens of things to occupy someone in a chemistry lab-

The doors opened and McCoy stopped cold. Spock turned around at his sudden entrance. The Vulcan was poised in front of several Erlenmeyer flasks, test tubes, and titration equipment. He raised an eyebrow.

"Doctor," he greeted formally.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" McCoy asked, utterly surprised.

"I am attempting to see if heat affects the concentration of certain forms of acidic compounds," Spock replied smoothly.

"What about the transposition formulas?" McCoy's voice strained, but didn't crack.

"Completed." Spock took a step forward and McCoy shuffled back, but it was only to obtain a Bunsen burner. "With the aid of the computers, Mr. Scott, and Captain Kirk, I was able to piece together the necessary requirements for another beaming. We have now to wait for the next storm to arise." Spock turned back to his experiment.

"Well, I guess you'd be the expert," McCoy forced out, with a nervous chuckle. "I don't even pretend to understand all of that interdimensional stuff."

"A shame, Doctor," Spock responded dryly. "It is very… illuminating."

McCoy suppressed a shiver at the dead tone.

He turned to leave, his mind screaming at him to _go, leave, leave, get out, now_, but was stopped when Spock continued speaking. "For instance, it appears that the _Enterprise_ itself is a very specific reference point."

"Oh?"

"The ship exists in both realities. In several realities, as the equations suggest many more. But more important than that is her crew. Several key members of the crew, I should say."

McCoy swallowed. "Like who?"

Those black eyes were on him again but he didn't squirm. "Like you."

McCoy's vision tunneled briefly.

"And me. And Mr. Scott. The entire bridge crew, in fact, especially Captain Kirk. Lesser crewmembers do not have as great an impact on the realities, but key people and items are always in the same position. This is why there are a few crewmen on my _Enterprise_ that are not here, while there are some crewmen _here_ who are _not_ on my ship." Spock paused. "Yet the key items and people remain linked between dimensions. It is my understanding that the two universes are bound. Where one key person is in one, he is in the other."

"So what's your point, Spock?" McCoy asked. He seemed to be handling himself better. Then the Vulcan looked at him oddly.

"My point is that I do not recall a trip to Vulcan. My counterpart must be a fair healer."

"What are you talking about?" McCoy bit harshly.

"The ramifications of my meld."

The room felt cold, as if all the air had just been sucked away. So it was out. It _did_ happen. No sense dancing around it anymore.

"Yeah, what about 'em?" McCoy asked casually. _What about the nightmares, the migraines, the panic attacks that followed for weeks until you showed up and refreshed them?_

"Normally that type of meld requires healing. You are still on duty as Chief Medical Officer. Seeing as there are no other Vulcans aboard, I surmise that my counterpart was responsible for restoring your mental faculties."

A detached, crazy part of McCoy's mind wanted to laugh. Spock restore his sanity? The hobgoblin would be the one to cause him to lose it in the first place.

The rest of him was much calmer, if only locked in place by the implications of this Spock's words. What exactly _did_ happen to him?

"There was no healer."

Spock, who had turned back around to his experiment, suddenly froze. It was only for an instant, but his shoulders stiffened before he raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating."

When he turned around he saw that McCoy had fled the room.

* * *

**It was getting a bit long, so I figured this was a good stopping point. There will be more of Jim in the next chapter, as well as some action! So hold onto your hats, folks, and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi guys! Once again, thank you for the AWESOME reviews! You make my day! :) This chapter has a little more action, and picks up into the second round of the story. I originally had more to this, but I liked the stopping point and it was already getting long, so I've bumped it to the next chapter. But I think that what is here should be enough to hold you over. I feel that in some parts I get a bit repetitive, but I've done my best to curb it to a minimum. Sorry for the delay in updating; we got a cat and she's been taking up my time (but she's so cuddly sweet that I didn't have the heart to leave her).**

**Anyway, hold onto your hats at the end! Watch out for Mirror Spock. And please review! I love reviews, even if I can't reply to them all personally. Have fun!**

* * *

**I.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

There it was.

Spock double-checked the readings, and then checked them again to make absolutely sure. James Kirk would not tolerate a miscalculation. But the readings remained sound- a storm was brewing.

Spock determined that it would develop to the necessary fruition late that night. He would stay awake until then. There was no danger to the ship, as it was elsewhere in the system, and smaller- they could fly in, plot the turbulence, and generally keep the ship sailing smoothly as the transposition commenced.

He straightened and looked around the empty lab. McCoy had been called to Sickbay for an "emergency". By the sound of it it hadn't sounded like an emergency, but due to whatever agreement he had made with the captain the doctor had gone to answer it. Spock strangely missed his company.

Seeing that he had completed everything to be accomplished, and that now it was just a matter of waiting for the hours to tick by, Spock decided (for some logical reason, surely) to visit McCoy in Sickbay. It occurred to him that he had not stopped by the medical center for his entire trip.

He left the lab and strode down the hall, aware of his constant shadow, Sodek. Spock marveled at the characteristics of this universe. Granted, its inhabitants were drastically violent, but if one could navigate the rules he would be well enough off. And inside, Spock believed that the counterparts were much like the originals- simply forced into a barbaric world and needing to react accordingly, if his conversations with McCoy were anything to go by.

Reflecting on the curious nature of this doctor, Spock entered Sickbay and proceeded to the biobeds. And stopped.

The surgery was either a complete failure, or deliberate torture. The operating table was doused with so much blood it pooled on the floor. The poor soul on the table wasn't moving any more- Spock hoped he was dead. Nurse Chapel was peeling off her gloves, letting them drop onto the red liquid. And McCoy…

McCoy was working on one of the victim's hands. Spock couldn't see all that clearly, but the redness just got brighter and brighter as he used a peculiar tool. The scent of blood grew sharper and Spock stiffened as the realization hit him.

The doctor noticed his presence, looked up and quirked an unsettling half-grin at him. "Well, don't look so surprised, Spock. They don't call me 'Sawbones' for nothing."

Spock couldn't reply. Instead, he walked stiffly out as the Hyde-McCoy finished removing the victim's hand.

* * *

**U.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

"Jim…" McCoy suddenly halted. Through the computer's video link, Kirk, on the other side raised his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

McCoy found that his mind was blank. After leaving the constricting lab he had hastily returned to his quarters, where after much pacing, a shower, and banging his head into the wall he felt he needed to _call Jim_- and do _something_.

About what? About Spock?

"Did you know that the Vulcan's playing with acids?" he blurted, accompanied by a scowl of disapproval to hide his nervousness.

"_Spock's done with the calculations. He fed them into the transporter with Scotty earlier today and now we're waiting for a storm over to starboard to finish developing so that we can fly in and make the transposition. That's a lot of hours to sit around doing nothing. You know how he likes to be productive."_

"Jim!" McCoy exploded. He quickly reined in his temper. Dropping his voice down, he proceeded with his point. "Captain. May I remind you that he's not the Spock we know?"

"_Bones, I'm well aware of that_," Kirk replied. "_However, while recognizing the differences, one also can't discount the similarities. He asked me if he could run a few experiments to help pass the time. I granted him permission. Is there any harm in that?"_

Of course there was. There were so many things McCoy wanted to say, but he found that he couldn't get the words out. And, rationally, even if he did they were unfounded. What had Spock done on this ship? Absolutely nothing. He stayed out of the way, worked on the formulas, and now that he was done was working quietly on an experiment. There was no charge one could make against that, but McCoy couldn't help feeling that something was just _wrong_.

But you can't arrest a man based on his nature.

Can you?

"No Jim," he replied hesitantly. "But- doesn't it bother you that he's working with potentially dangerous materials unsupervised?"

Kirk gave him 'the look'. _"He's hardly a child, Bones."_

"You're right," McCoy said honestly. "He's a killer."

Kirk sighed. _"Doctor, if you're worried that Spock might do something here, may I remind _you_ that he's still a Vulcan dedicated to logic? He has no _reason_ to wish anyone harm. In his universe it's necessary, but here, it's not."_ McCoy opened his mouth to protest but Kirk cut him off. _"I don't know why you're so worked up, Bones," _he said. _"But on this ship we can't take the measures you're asking for without proof of a crime- and none has been committed. You can't convict a man on what he _might _do."_

"I _know_ that," McCoy replied frustratedly. "I'm just saying that it doesn't feel… _right_ that he can run around loose like that." It doesn't feel _safe_.

Kirk looked at him closely. "_Noted. You look tired, Doctor," _he changed the subject._ "Have you been getting enough rest lately?"_

McCoy grimaced. _Not with that nightmare running around on the ship._ "I could use a little more sleep," he said.

"_Go to bed,"_ Kirk said sternly. _"That's an order. The transposition will likely happen late tonight, so when you wake up tomorrow the world will be back to normal. Okay?"_

McCoy didn't like being babied, but he found that he couldn't argue. Not without sounding completely mad. "Okay, Jim," he said insincerely.

Kirk smiled. _"Good. You need it."_ The link closed and McCoy stared at the black screen.

Muttering desperately to himself, McCoy laid back down on his bed. He stared at the ceiling on his back, his mind throbbing in time with his beating heart.

Jim was right. Spock hadn't _done_ anything. But… he had. He was a remorseless killer. He'd agonized transporter chief Kyle, stood by as Chekov suffered in the booth, been ready to _kill_ the captain… and done _something_ to him…

But McCoy could see how Jim would have a hard time connecting with that. Simply that this was _Spock_ would be enough for hesitation. _Spock_, whom they've known for years. _Spock_, who on countless occasions risked his life for them. _Spock_, who for all of his contributions both scientifically and personally, couldn't be erased from the mind by one nightmarish encounter.

But the thing Jim couldn't seem to grasp was that this _wasn't_ Spock. This was some twisted form of that man whose only similarity to their favorite Vulcan was in physical appearance and some adherence to logic- logic on another universe's standards. McCoy knew how the imposter would prowl the ship, keeping watch on its docile inhabitants. The wolf was among the sheep. Didn't anyone seem to care?

Apparently not. They trusted Jim, who trusted the anti-Spock. Well, McCoy wasn't fooled. He knew the danger all too well. It would creep in the night during sleep and press him up against the bulkhead, driving into his mind like a never-ending nail until he awoke with a cut-off scream, sitting bolt upright on his bed, sweating and staring at the ever-present darkness…

"_Damn_ it!" he cried, lurching off of the bed. He was out the door in the next second, striding quickly and furiously down the corridors.

Because the 'night' had deepened and the hour was late, no one else was in the halls. McCoy continued his mad pacing, hands clenched behind his back and jaw gritted firmly. He wound through the corridors with an illogical destination in mind- the labs.

Spock was still there. He had the burner going and was recording the changes of the substances over it. McCoy crossed his arms and stood firmly by the door of the lab. Only an empty table stood between them, as Spock worked at one of the counters. McCoy wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

"Doctor," Spock greeted, once again not turning around.

"Ready to go home?" McCoy asked, cutting right down to the chase. His temper was short and he still had adrenaline flooding his veins.

"We have not entered the storm yet," Spock replied. "But I am, essentially, prepared."

"Good," McCoy snapped. "I'd love to see you off." His tone was biting, but he was beyond caring. The Vulcan before him was infuriating on a new level- a dangerous one.

"Yes, you have made your distaste for me quite known," Spock said dryly.

"Well, I'm not exactly going to like you after what happened in Sickbay," he retorted. McCoy was aware that he was trembling slightly, but shook it off due to the adrenaline. Yes, it happened. Yes, they were talking about it. Did he come here to confront Spock?

"Why?" he asked, letting it out in all one breath. The room stilled as Spock stopped moving, and not a breath passed between them. The flame on the burner flickered.

"I needed information," Spock said at last, finally turning around. "I needed it soon, and it was clear you knew what was going on. I asked you, but you refused to answer. So I took what I needed to know. It was only logical."

A half-laugh, half-sob escaped McCoy's lips. "Logical. Trust you to make something like _that_ 'logical'." He leaned against the wall, feeling slightly dizzy and hysterical. "And I betcha you don't feel anything about it? Sorry, triumphant, regretful? _Nothing_?" He held up a hand against Spock's reply, missing the strange flicker in his eyes and stance. "Fine. I'll troop on as I always have. Never mind the _doctor_. I'll just peddle away in Medbay, and keep my business to myself."

"Doctor," Spock said, an odd undertone to his voice. "I should like to know how-"

"No!" McCoy scrambled away from the wall and edged back towards the door as Spock stepped around the table. "You ain't doing any more of that! You don't _have_ to know everything! Some things can just stay mysterious." He gave a nervous chuckle. "'Hell, Spock. I already figured it meant nothing to you. I guess I just had to hear you say it."

He turned and was heading swiftly out the door…

…and felt a hand clamp at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

* * *

Spock lowered the unconscious human to the ground before hoisting him up on the table. He understood the doctor's erratic behavior, but at the same time he _couldn't_ understand it.

See, Spock had been more than just 'fascinated' when McCoy said that there had been no healer after their meld.

He had been _alarmed._

Spock had performed _kae-at k'lasa_ before on humans and Vulcans. Most had gone insane to the point where death was a mercy. The ones that survived needed healing from a Vulcan.

Nobody ever recovered _on their own_.

If what Dr. McCoy said was true, then it posed a serious problem in his plans. One that could have ended up irrecoverably disastrous. Spock had to know if it was true, _and_ how it was even possible.

The answer was elusive, as the doctor clearly didn't fully know what had happened. He didn't even know that healing was required (how ironic). Spock's solution was simple, and essentially unobtrusive. By sliding into McCoy's mind while he was unconscious, he could quickly figure out how McCoy's sanity survived without disturbing the doctor. It wasn't _kae'at k'lasa_- it was just a peek. It would get him his answers, and McCoy would never know it happened at all.

Spock bent over to initiate the meld when a shrill whistle went off. He turned, and saw that the acid he left on the burner was passing the danger mark. It had to be moved before it overheated and turned gaseous- and potentially poisonous. Spock walked over and used the tongs to set the test tube on the rack to cool. He turned off the burner, and, searching, found a cap to cork the acid. Finished, he turned back around and began the light mind-meld on McCoy.

The problem was that now, after the delay, McCoy was waking up.

Spock sensed his confusion, and felt it rapidly change to a mixture of panic and fury. The doctor was misreading this. Whereas last time Spock had caught him by surprise, this instance saw fierce resistance as McCoy bucked and pushed against his presence. It wasn't supposed to go this way. It was just supposed to be a peek, to know…

McCoy struggled, even lashing out. Spock pushed back, determined to find his answer. The entire fight was mental. In reality, neither was moving very much. They weren't even aware of it.

It would be wise to back out, Spock knew. Their minds were one, but tangled, and McCoy was still trying to resist, to eject him. But so much was at stake. Spock didn't dare consider a possibility where he _didn't_ know how McCoy resisted the effects of the forced meld. Too much was riding on finding out _how_.

There was only one option. Spock pushed forward.

* * *

Jim Kirk lay on his bed, one knee drawn up. He stared intently at the ceiling. He thought he could go to sleep, but slumber was proving elusive as his mind wouldn't stop turning.

Never before had he considered Spock compromised.

Oh yes, they'd survived the _pon farr_ incident. But Spock had been acting out of sorts. He had never considered his first officer comprised just for being himself.

After all of the life-or-death situations the two of them had been through, it was tough to simply ignore the resulting friendship. Why should one little encounter undo everything they had? The Spock from the parallel-universe was still Spock.

But McCoy's words echoed in his mind. It hadn't escaped his notice that the doctor was extra jumpy ever since the counterpart came aboard. His insistence that they watch this Vulcan was odd… until one remembered that he came from a cutthroat universe.

But that was precisely _why_ Kirk didn't send him to the brig. Seeing his crew, his _friends_, in that universe was disturbing. They were so cruel, yet just normal enough that it made one second-guess their natures.

It was enough to make one go mad.

Kirk never turned down an opportunity to help better a wayward civilization. He constantly promoted democracy, civility, hard work, and _humanity._ To see a parallel of his ship in such a desolate state was a golden opportunity. He wanted Spock to lead the revolution. After learning about himself, he knew that he had to be removed from power. But he trusted Spock to carry the day.

He still had that trust. But Bones constantly rallied against it. Kirk had never considered his trust in Spock as misplaced.

_But that's not Spock._

He shivered as his mind replayed McCoy's argument after the briefing. In a way, he had a point. It wasn't the Spock _they_ knew.

Perhaps, a little more caution wouldn't hurt.

Kirk glanced at the time and saw it was close to when the storm would grow enough to commence beaming. He rolled over and reached for the comm unit.

"Bridge."

_"__Bridge here, Captain."_

"Have you got the turbulence of the storm plotted so it won't give us a shaky ride?"

_"__All plotted, Captain."_

"Good. Fly in twenty minutes from now. Stay there until I tell you otherwise. Kirk out."

He switched off the comm and rolled off the bed. It wouldn't be long before the transposition took place and this Spock would be gone forever, but perhaps he could still appease McCoy. Kirk walked out of his quarters and headed for the labs. If someone _was_ going to watch the Vulcan it would be himself.

Though he had a sinking feeling that it was too little too late.

The door swooshed open and he entered the lab… and everything was wrong.

Nothing prepared him for the cold sight. Bones was on his back on top of a table. Spock was standing next to the table, leaning over him with both hands on his face. Neither one moved except for minute twitches in their fingers and faces, and the whole image screamed _wrong_.

Lightning thoughts zipped through Kirk's mind. One: that this didn't look right, that McCoy wasn't supposed to be like that. Two: Spock was clearly forcing this. Three:

He should have listened.

Kirk reacted instantly. He raced around the table and lunged at Spock, tackling him.

The world went to hell.

McCoy suddenly screamed and Spock groaned mightily. The Vulcan's legs gave out sending him and Kirk crashing to the ground. Kirk's head clocked against the counter and he saw stars for a moment but shook it off. Scrambling to his knees, he saw Spock crouched against the counter, both hands pressing against his head and his eyes squeezed shut. He rocked inestimably.

"What happened!?" Kirk demanded, gripping his shoulders. Spock coughed and curled in further on himself. "What were you doing?!"

"Cap-tain," he wheezed, barely getting the word out.

Seeing that the Vulcan was actually in great pain, Kirk stopped shaking him. Then a cold weight settled in his chest. He swiveled quickly from his position and looked up at the table. McCoy was silent.

Surging to his feet, Kirk staggered and gripped the table. The doctor had curled on his right side but wasn't moving. He was far too still. Kirk rushed around the table to look at his face.

McCoy's eyes were open, but unseeing.

"Oh, God…" Kirk breathed. He looked over and saw that Spock was still clutching his head on the floor. Quickly he spun to the wall behind him, hitting the comm with his fist.

"Sickbay! M'Benga, I need an emergency medical team to the chemistry lab NOW!"

There were muted shouts and orders on the other end, but Kirk had turned back and could only look helplessly at the moaning Vulcan and unresponsive doctor.

_What have I done?_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Oh my goodness! I-words can't convey how FANTASTIC and appreciated those reviews are! Thank you EVERYBODY for the support! As a result, I've worked extra hard to get this chapter done- normally it takes me a week to get one written because I've been busy, but I've managed to get this baby done in three days. Hopefully it answers (some) of your questions! And thank you again for all those lovely reviews! Please do enjoy!**

* * *

M'Benga and the other nurses arrived in record time. Kirk turned sharply to face them, and met M'Benga's eyes as they searched the scene for medical clues.

"What happened, Captain?" the doctor asked urgently, setting his medical kit on the table by McCoy. He pulled out his scanner and ran it over the prone doctor as Chapel and another nurse tended Spock.

"I'm not sure," Kirk said. He felt as if electricity was humming through his body like a live wire. "I came in… and they were engaged in a mind meld."

M'Benga looked at him sharply. "A mind meld?" For a moment, Kirk could see the Vulcan expert behind those eyes.

"It looked one-sided, though," Kirk pressed. "Bones was on this table… Spock was over him… I think it was forced."

The doctor sucked in a breath. "And then what happened?" he managed to ask calmly.

"I stopped it," Kirk answered honestly. He looked worriedly at the two. "I wrenched Spock away and- suddenly nothing was right-"

"You pulled them straight out of a mind meld?" M'Benga gripped his arm suddenly.

"Yes," Kirk replied. "It didn't look like a situation that needed to go on."

M'Benga pursed his lips, worry shining through his dark eyes. "You were correct in that, but I fear your actions may have made things worse." He let out a shaky sigh. Then he walked over to Spock.

"Can you hear me, Spock?" he asked gently, crouching down.

The bearded man had his eyes open, but was still engaged in an effort to control his pain. "Yes," he rasped.

"Why did you force a meld?" M'Benga asked softly, but bluntly.

"Had to… be done…" He grimaced and closed his eyes.

"We don't have any telepathic healers here," the doctor continued. "Do we need to go to Vulcan?"

"No!" Spock's eyes flew open and he made a clumsy attempt to stand. "I have… Sodek. Transposition… will help." He staggered and nearly fell but the nurses caught him.

"When's the transposition happening Captain?" M'Benga asked quickly.

Kirk checked the time, and was surprised to see how late it was. "In ten minutes. We need to get to the transporter room. But how will that help…?" he trailed when the doctor waved a hand to stave off his questions.

"Captain, to understand the situation you need to be aware of two things. I could go into detail, but we're pressed for time right now. One: a non-consensual mind meld is _very_ bad. As in, it was outlawed on Vulcan and one of the few crimes that can still land the perpetrator the death sentence. Two: Breaking a meld like that, by an outside party, is rough, depending on how deep it is. Breaking a forced meld…" M'Benga let out a puff of air. "It's a real mess."

Kirk glanced at Bones.

"Essentially, Captain," M'Benga said gently. "You caused a form of whiplash. It affected both parties as their link was suddenly broken. Spock, initiating the meld and being a Vulcan, is handling the results better than McCoy. McCoy, for his part, is…" he searched for the right word. "His mind is stunned. Typically, stunning a human involves physiological stress on the body, with the mind following. In this case, it's backwards. His mind is stunned from whipping back into itself, on top of fighting a meld, and that's why he's so unresponsive right now."

"Is there anything you can do?" Kirk demanded.

M'Benga's look sent chills down Kirk's spine. "Not for McCoy. He needs a Vulcan healer, and I'm no telepath." He looked behind him. "But we need to get Spock back to his universe. Apparently his 'Sodek' friend can help him. And maybe, with our Spock back, _he_ can help Dr. McCoy."

Kirk nodded shortly. "Then let's move. Spock, we're transposing _now_."

* * *

**I.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

Spock walked briskly to the transporter room. He did not desire to stay in this twisted universe any longer. Once again, he reminded himself how illogical assumptions were. Fortunately, it was time to leave.

"Spock!"

He only glanced behind him. He was in a hurry. A woman was running to catch up with him, with lovely black hair. He picked up his pace, not wanting to deal anymore with this ship's inhabitants.

"What's the big idea here?" The woman demanded, catching up behind him. "I've been trying to get a hold of you for days, only to find that you've locked yourself away in the lab, with Sodek allowing no one to enter-" She pushed around in front of him and froze, taking in the sight of his lack of beard.

"You're not him," she whispered.

"No, Miss Moreau, I am not," he replied, coming to a halt. Her eyes widened at her name, but Spock recognized her from his own universe. "But I am leaving now. He will be back within the hour, and then you two may discuss whatever it is you need."

"You're… going back to your universe?" She swallowed. "The one where Kirk and the others came from?"

"Yes."

She nodded, taking it in. Then, composing herself "Well, say 'hello' for me, Spock," she said, her voice somewhat hollow. "And… tell Kirk that I don't blame him."

Spock raised an eyebrow, but nodded. Marlena glanced around the corridor, and quickly walked back the way she came. Spock journeyed on to the transporter room alone.

When he got there, he noticed that Scott and McCoy were also inside. He did not greet them, but instead walked stiffly up onto the transport pad.

"Spock," McCoy called. Spock still stared right ahead, refusing to answer the butcher.

"Spock," he tried again. This time, Spock looked at him. And he saw that the blue eyes were unusually open. It almost seemed that the secrets the doctor carried were ready to spill out.

But instead McCoy just uttered a few words. "Keep your ears straight."

Spock nodded, absorbing the concealed friendship. Then Scott activated the transporter and the world blurred.

* * *

**U.S.S. ****_Enterprise_**

Kirk paced the transporter room furiously. The figure was shimmering gold on the platform- fading, but not quite going away. Scotty assured him that this was normal but he couldn't help but feel anxious. They _needed_ their Spock back- if not in general then for Bones' sake.

Kirk worried about the doctor. He'd never seen the man so still. Normally, no matter how despondent, bruised, or beaten there was always some sign of _life_ in him- not this blank unresponsiveness.

The figure solidified, and Kirk felt immense tension leave his body as Spock stood before him, tall and clean-shaven.

"Spock!" he said urgently, running up and gripping his elbow. Spock almost looked startled at his speed and strength. "We have a problem."

* * *

Spock listened to Kirk as they speed-walked through the corridors. He was still processing the sudden change back onto his own ship, among his familiar crewmembers, but apparently something had happened while he was gone. Something that was very, very bad if Kirk was so worked up like this.

"Captain," he broke in, to clarify. "What exactly did my counterpart do to Dr. McCoy?"

They entered a turbolift, called up for Deck 5, and Kirk sucked in a breath. "He was melding, Spock. But I don't think Bones agreed to it."

Spock stiffened.

Kirk was still talking. "And then I spotted them and forcibly separated the two… and now it's like I just made things _worse_ because Spock was clearly in pain and Bones…" he trailed.

"Captain," Spock strained, voice tight. "Are you aware of the effects of a forced meld?"

Kirk frowned worriedly. "M'Benga told me it was a crime punishable by death."

"It is," Spock said gravely. "But I am speaking of mental and physiological effects." He shifted imperceptibly, but Kirk still noticed, his gut tightening. "Most victims of it are unable to make sense of their own thoughts afterwards, effectively going insane."

"Not Bones," Kirk growled, gripping the turbolift's control handle. "Can you fix him, Spock?"

"I shall have to see him," Spock said. "I am somewhat versed in healing techniques, having realized that I may need them once, considering that I am the only Vulcan aboard."

"Good," Kirk said. His face was hard. The lift opened and they poured out to Sickbay. Spock followed closely on Kirk's heels as they navigated to a back area. M'Benga met them at the door and led them inside. Spock surveyed the private space, his eyes resting on a still form.

McCoy was laid out on a biobed, and except for the blinking panel above him and the minute rise and fall of his chest he looked dead. Spock was unaware of the hushed exchanges between Kirk and M'Benga, staring frozen at the doctor. At one point Nurse Chapel was beside him, but she was gone in the next instant. His mind buzzed with information and the necessity of what had to be done.

"Spock. Spock?" Someone was calling his name. Shaking out of his lapse, he turned to where Kirk was looking at him expectantly. "Is everything okay, Spock?"

"With me, yes," he answered. "However, the doctor is another matter." He looked down, and stepped forward to the prone figure. Spock folded his hands, crossing them at the index and middle fingers. "If he's still there, Captain," he said softly. "Then I shall try to draw him out."

Kirk nodded. "Do what you have to, Spock."

* * *

M'Benga and Nurse Chapel were standing by, resting in nearby chairs. Chapel was there to monitor McCoy's vitals, and M'Benga was keeping an eye on Spock, to make sure he didn't succumb to whatever turmoil pervaded McCoy's mind.

Kirk paced the room. Spock was dimly aware of this as he gingerly placed his fingers on McCoy's meld points. With a deep breath, he sank into the doctor's mind.

Everything was frozen, yet at the same time moving impossibly fast. The confusion was so imminent that one couldn't even _label_ it confusion. Through it all there was a constant, white, blinding, stinging pain. Spock struggled through, trying to find the root of the problem.

The frozen-yet-moving sensation continued as he navigated further in. Awareness was completely gone. Spock could see now how McCoy was so unresponsive. Everything simply ceased to exist.

It was complete disarray. Nothing was where it should be. The stunned, forced mind held no answers- unless that was the answer itself.

Enlightenment reached Spock the moment he made the connection. Of course. Like a tuning fork that was vibrating, McCoy was still reeling from the ripped mind meld ending. If one stayed the vibration, it stopped and went back to normal. Armed with this analogy, Spock began projecting, stabilizing the mind in turmoil.

Almost instantly the pervasive sensation decreased, and ceased. McCoy's mind was now visible to Spock with the absence of the white pain. He moved forward. Having fixed the unresponsiveness, he now had to deal with the effects of the forced meld.

McCoy didn't stir and Spock surmised he was still unconscious. This was perhaps for the best. Spock could determine which memories and areas were damaged and repair them without the doctor aware of his presence, which might upset him.

Gently following the ghostly trails of the past meld, Spock noticed something curious. Memories weren't attacked. Instead, the operations of the mind were the target. Why would his counterpart seek this out?

Just to make sure he wasn't missing something, Spock did a brief scan of the memories. Just as he thought, there were a few damaged. But, oddly, the damages looked old. They'd even healed on their own, slightly, put back together just short of haphazardly. Spock set them straight and found it odd that the memories were of McCoy's transposition. Why were these targeted? It wasn't logical. Unless…

Unless they were targeted in order to find out why four crewmen were acting suspiciously.

Before there was any mention of parallel universes.

Prompted by this, Spock uneasily was directed to another memory. It was older, and of Sickbay. No, not their Sickbay. Spock recognized the slight stains on the biobed and new it was the other Sickbay, run by the butcher. His counterpart was on the bed, and then he wasn't, and then he…

Everything suddenly clicked. The old damages. His counterpart. There had been a second forced meld, earlier. Back when it all began. For information.

But McCoy survived…

And kept it a secret…

How?

That was why his counterpart had targeted the doctor's mental operations this time, Spock realized. He had been curious, most likely. Surviving _kae'at k'lasa_ unaided was an unheard of feat. His counterpart wanted to see how it was done.

_Enough._

Spock was startled by the tired, yet firm thought. McCoy was coming to. And Spock was still in his mind.

_Doctor-_

_No. Enough._ The doctor was probably exhausted. _You've shown what you can do. Fine. Now get out._

It occurred to Spock that McCoy probably thought he was his counterpart. _Doctor,_ he replied. _You are mistaken. I am not my counterpart. I am the Spock you and Captain Kirk know. And he did not cause the pain you just experienced, that was an unfortunate result of being ripped out of a deep meld._

He could sense McCoy's skepticism. To support his words, Spock opened up his own mind, and allowed the doctor to see memories of familiar people and places. It was hard to tell through the exhaustion, but he believed McCoy was soothed slightly.

_I am not here to intrude_, he reassured. _But the rip and forced meld had ill effects on you- the captain informed me of the situation when I returned._

_Did it happen already? _His thought drifted up from the depths.

_Indeed. _Spock paused. _Doctor, I am aware that the core of your mind was targeted. May I inspect it for any possible damages caused by his... act?_

_Why not? _McCoy sighed heavily. _Not much I could do about it anyway._

_On the contrary, Doctor,_ Spock clarified. _You could say 'no'._

There was silence for a long time. Spock hoped that his words wouldn't 'come back to bite him' as humans said, because he did want to look and make sure nothing was damaged.

_I know about the other meld,_ he said gently. _The one that occurred in Sickbay._ There was more silence, so he continued. _It is a form of melding called _kae'at k'lasa_; highly unethical. While I will not go into details unless you wish it, I will tell you that no one ever recovers from _kae'at k'lasa_ on their own._ Spock paused. _Until now._

_This, Doctor, is why I believe my counterpart has melded with you again. He would also know, probably firsthand, that no one recovers by themselves. Likely he was curious, and so attacked your mind to find out why you were not driven insane. This is why I wish to inspect your mental operations: to make absolutely sure that they are still intact, and if not, to repair them from whatever damages he may have inflicted._

He fell silent and waited patiently for an answer. Automatically he resolved that if McCoy never answered he would withdraw and ask again at a later date. Fortunately, he was spared this when a mumble reached his consciousness.

_Okay._

Encouraged by the response, Spock eased forward to examine the heart of the mind.

And found the answer.

Personalities, in the mind, were generally faceted throughout. Pockets would snip up here and there, dependent on some situations, and others locked away in the unknown. But it was organized, in that respect.

McCoy's personality, however, was not crisp.

It seeped and expanded through every part of him. It was incredibly fluid, changing and shifting and most of all _adapting._ His liveliness permeated his whole being. Spock had only glimpsed this through the occasional flash of blue lighting up, but here it was absolutely blazing. Dancing and fluctuating, there was no part that the essence of McCoy didn't reach. It was projected around his mind, around himself, and shifted with the wind.

He survived the melds because his mind, his personality, had simply _absorbed_ the event and _adapted _to it.

The discovery stunned Spock, but also fascinated him beyond words. It was unbroken and untouched, seamlessly threading through him. Spock started backing out of McCoy's mind, acknowledging that his work was done and there was no reason to stay- but the earthy power and force of McCoy's mind was enriching and glorious.

But no more. Spock resurfaced from the meld, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the sights around him. Kirk was suddenly near his shoulder, asking him questions. M'Benga and Chapel were checking over McCoy.

"Spock, what happened?" Kirk asked. "Did it go okay? Is Bones…?"

"Well, Captain," Spock finished, finding his voice. "Though exhausted, the doctor's mind is sound." He straightened, realizing that he now had to focus back on reality. "Curious discoveries, however. And one of which that I need to speak with you about, Jim."

Kirk looked up sharply at the use of his first name. He nodded slowly, gravely. "Alright, Spock." He glanced at McCoy. "We'll talk in his office. It's private… how serious is it?"

"Very," Spock maintained steadily. "Of little consequence, but that alone is highly unusual." He gestured with his hand. "But let us continue to his office. I mean to speak with you of something that had occurred during the first transposition…"

They walked out, murmuring quietly. Chapel stayed at McCoy's bedside, watching them leave. Then she returned her attention to her boss, feeling the draining sensation of relief that he was well, and sleeping peacefully.

* * *

**Not over yet, folks! I'm going to have another chapter, 'afterwards' and then another one (perhaps in 'afterwards, perhaps not) to delineate more of Mirror!Spock's motives and reasons, as well as the result of what he learned. There is something valuable to him in knowing this. So keep hanging on!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey guys, so sorry for the wait. That's arguably my longest stretch in posting mid-story. This one followed the pattern of several previous stories in that I get _seriously_ unmotivated in the last two chapters. By the time my muse kicked back up this week had me running left and right I was so busy! The reviews are adorable, though and VERY loved. Thank you for the support! This chapter is a bit short, but I liked the mood, and the ending so afterwards I didn't want to beat a dead horse. Enjoy!**

* * *

McCoy didn't really want to open his eyes. He knew he was lying on his back with a blanket over him and he felt so good that he didn't want to move. Actually, he felt better than he had all week. Or, come to think of it, for a while. Damn it, he didn't know what happened but he was going to enjoy this.

The problem was, someone next to him was talking in a low voice. As his awareness grew and further sleep was frustrated, he was aware that it was Kirk. He was rambling on and on about something.

"… and I guess I never really thought about it. You know? I was so focused- I always get focused on my goals, that's how I work, but those are _my_ goals and I guess I forget that sometimes there are other people who…" he trailed off and McCoy felt a hand rest on his arm. "I didn't realize," he said softly. "I knew, or at least I thought I knew, that Spock was reliable. But I completely overlooked other peoples' interactions with him… _your_ interactions…"

"Jim," McCoy murmured. "Be quiet."

The hand on his arm stilled, and McCoy figured that not only did he startle Jim, but that Kirk might think he was resentful. "I'm trying to savor this."

The hand relaxed and he heard a chuckle. "This is just getting to the point of laziness Bones," Kirk's voice drifted humorously. "You've been out for the past two days."

McCoy finally opened his eyes. "What?" he asked inelegantly, squinting and blinking in the light. He turned stiffly to face Jim, who scooted his chair closer.

"You've been sleeping hard for the past 48 hours. That's dereliction of duty, Doctor," Kirk added, attempting to be funny. It halfway died and he tried to pull it back. "But you deserved it. Spock only knows how much his counterpart did."

Spock. McCoy remembered Spock. It was odd, like an overexposed dream running on a small video screen. The Vulcan, the _correct_ Vulcan, mind you, had stopped the blinding white pain. McCoy felt a lazy grin tug at his mouth. He felt too good to consider whether he should be creeped out or not.

"So Spock is back?" he asked.

Kirk nodded. "Up on the bridge, taking care of things. I needed-" Kirk broke off and cleared his throat. "I had to-"

He was stopped when McCoy rested a hand on his arm. "It's okay," he said gently, looking Jim in the eye.

"I should have listened, back at the briefing-"

"And _I_ should've told you everything," McCoy broke in firmly. "But that's the past, and everything's worked out well in the end." He kept looking at Kirk until he gave a weak smile.

"Thanks, Bones."

They stayed silent for several minutes, listening to the monitors in Sickbay. Kirk made an aborted movement, and then spoke up. "Spock had a message from Marlena for me."

"Oh?" McCoy asked. "What did she say?"

"She doesn't blame me."

"For?" McCoy prodded.

Kirk didn't meet his eyes. "For leaving her behind."

McCoy relaxed. "That's good, Jim." He fixed a firm gaze on him. "Do _you_ blame yourself?"

"No," Kirk replied. He straightened and squared his shoulders, meeting McCoy's gaze. "Not anymore."

McCoy nodded, sinking back into the pillows with a sigh. "That's very good, Jim."

* * *

McCoy was released from Sickbay later that day but Spock didn't get a chance to see him until late that evening. Truthfully, the Vulcan couldn't say why he was in the rec room, only that it seemed like the place to be at such a late hour. He wasn't surprised to see the doctor there, but at the same time wasn't _unsurprised_. It was natural that he sat down across from the human and eyed the checkers board.

"Chess was never quite the fit for me," McCoy mentioned idly after a moment. He moved a red piece and withdrew his hand. "It was more of a game for you and Jim."

"Indeed," Spock mused. He slid a black piece across the board, mirroring McCoy's move. "The captain and I find it intellectually stimulating."

McCoy nodded. "Though to me it's intellectually confusing." He shifted another red piece, resting it near the side of the board. "I prefer the simpler games."

Spock nodded minutely. "Checkers is simpler than three-dimensional chess," he acknowledged. He raised an eyebrow and looked at McCoy. "Though not without its own challenges." He moved his token.

McCoy half-grinned. "Well, without challenges, Spock, it would be too easy." He made his next move and glanced at the Vulcan, eyes twinkling. "And _boring_."

"In that case," Spock answered smoothly, a reflected twinkle in his own eye. "It is very stimulating- in its own unique, illogical way."

"At times frustrating," McCoy added, pondering how to combat Spock's arrowhead formation.

"And other times unbelievable," Spock watched as McCoy claimed _two_ of his key pieces.

"But in the end, the game's still fun." McCoy nudged a piece and stretched. He looked across the board at Spock, who had made no move to counteract. He quirked a smile.

"A later date, then, Spock?"

"Indeed," the Vulcan agreed.

They both rose from the table, and left the game unfinished.

* * *

**The Mirror!Verse resolution will occur in the next (and final) chapter. The mood is entirely different so I didn't want to combine the two and undo what I've done here. That _should_ be up faster than this chapter was because I've already got it all planned out (in my mind and my outline, that is). **

**Also, going with the Mirror! mind-meld thing, I'm throwing out there that I made a video about what Mirror!Spock may have seen when he mind-melded with McCoy. It's called 'Mirror Spock- Mind Heist' if you wish to check it out, made by me, Danzinora Switch.**

**Reviews are appreciated and loved! And bless y'all's hearts!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Oh, wow, thanks for sticking through this, guys! And the reviews and PM's are amazing, they're inspiring and heartwarming (thank you bunches!). Here is the final chapter of The Wicked and Divine. This is what Mirror!Spock was up to and why McCoy's resistance to his melding was so important. It's time to wrap things up in the Mirror!Verse. As always, if you spy any loose ends, please let me know! I'll try to tie them up promptly! Thanks so much, again!**

* * *

**I.S.S. ****_Enterprise, _****3 months later…**

The mutiny was proceeding well. Kirk had so blindly thought that no one would ever dare try anything while he was on the bridge, in the chair. That's what made it the perfect opening. With a quick use of his knife and Kirk's throat, Spock had claimed the captaincy.

The security guards on the bridge had no time to react, both vaporized by Sodek. Spock, dropping his knife and retrieving his phaser in one move, killed Sulu. He glanced over at Uhura who smiled and nodded. Their deal had been she would join him if he dispatched Sulu and his unwanted attention.

Quickly, she started working the channels. She closed off the bridge and made report calls down to Engineering. Marlena was taking care of things down there- Mr. Scott was subdued and so were disloyal engineers.

Mutinies were always chaotic. The halls were frantic as alliances shifted and crewmembers took opportunity of the craziness to dispatch their own enemies. Spock paid this no attention. It was simply the necessary weeding of who would get to stay.

Ever since being healed by Sodek- he had beamed back aboard practically crippled with pain- he had sped up their plans. Suvuk and Marlena would gain control in Engineering- Suvuk would _convince_ Scott of the change in power, while Spock took the bridge. He left it in the hands of Uhura, aware that people would get the wrong idea of the mutiny were he to give the conn to another Vulcan. The halls and bulk of crewmembers would sort themselves out. The last, main target now was Sickbay.

Spock knew better than to enter through the main ward. When needed, Sickbay could be turned into a formidable fortress. Word of the mutiny no doubt has spread by now. Instead, he entered through the side door into McCoy's office.

He could tell he surprised the doctor. In fact, it looked as if McCoy had been coming to seal off that very door. Fortunately, Spock now held the captain's code: even if McCoy had managed to seal the door it wouldn't have mattered.

Something had to be said for the speed at which McCoy recovered. He knew who was now and charge, and also that they had clashed violently on more than one occasion. Spock almost fell prey to an unsuspecting hypo had he not known it was coming. He crushed it out of McCoy's hand as the doctor twisted and squirmed away.

It wasn't over yet. McCoy had out the knife that all officers carried. Spock pulled out his, still bloodied from assassinating Kirk. They lashed out and there was a clang of metal.

McCoy was nimble, but Spock was strong, and knife-fighting wasn't exactly the doctor's forte. Metal flashed and collided, and though they nicked each other's hands, neither exactly scored.

That is, until Spock pulled out his agonizer with his free hand.

Their blades clashed once more and Spock suddenly pressed the agonizer against the underside of McCoy's forearm. The doctor screamed and, his hand and arm muscles spazzing, dropped the knife. Just as fast, Spock released his weapons and slammed him against the bulkhead. The two suddenly stopped, staring at each other, chests heaving, and Spock's hand poised hovering over McCoy's face.

"Go ahead," the doctor spat. "Do it. I've seen you do this in interrogations, I know the result. Just go ahead and make me your mindless, little puppet!"

Spock didn't move. McCoy's icy blue eyes glared up at him, all defiance and hatred. They'd never been allies. There was no guarantee he'd have the man's support like this. He was too valuable to kill, yet would still be too troublesome alive.

Unless he changed that.

However…

Spock shifted, and slowly his hand dropped. His grip on McCoy's shoulder, which had him pinned to the bulkhead, lessened, and the doctor straightened.

"It would not be worth it, Doctor," Spock said, in an almost subdued tone. "There is no point in trying to force your mind."

McCoy continued to stare at him, incredulous, suspicious, and still heaving from their fight. Spock turned away to leave.

"Why?" McCoy demanded.

Spock didn't answer. "I am Captain of this ship, now. You will answer and obey me. If you refuse to comply, you will stay in the brig for the remainder of your years." He started walking for the door.

"I knew you were going to do it, Spock!" McCoy yelled after him. "Does my illogical mind frighten you? Why didn't you do it?!"

Spock was already out the door, the doctor's demand for an answer echoing behind him. Why hadn't he? His plan was to go ahead and make the doctor join him. But his experience in the other universe warned him otherwise.

_Because it wouldn't work_, he answered to himself.

And it was time to change the Empire.

* * *

**Okay guys, here's the big news (and somewhat, kind of, not really, part of the reason why updating this fic would take so long). I've been writing the sequel to my canon Kirk/McCoy project 'Two Survivors'. It's called 'Three Heroes' and I hope to be posting it in the next few days. I've handwritten the first two chapters so far, so I'll need to type them up, but it's there and will be out soon! So, stay tuned for that!**

**Thanks for following this story! I hope you enjoyed it! God bless y'all!**


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